


You're Asking Me Will My Love Grow

by SlytherinHowl



Series: The Ferris-Wheel AU series [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family Fluff, Helaena Mormont loves George Harrison, How to make a bad day better?, Jorah is a hopeless romantic, The Beatles!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 05:37:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21470920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinHowl/pseuds/SlytherinHowl
Summary: Daenerys has a bad day. She needssomethingto make it better.Set a year before the last chapter of 'Ferris-Wheels and Plush Toys.'
Relationships: Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen
Series: The Ferris-Wheel AU series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1471217
Comments: 17
Kudos: 20





	You're Asking Me Will My Love Grow

**Author's Note:**

> I missed the fluff train yesterday, but I hope it's not too late to post this today. Just a little bit of sweet family moments in the Targaryen-Mormont household. Helaena is around three in this and the wedding hasn't taken place yet. 
> 
> I want to that @fanoftheknight for beta-ing this and for generally putting up with me :P. You lovely thing, you.

Daenerys had always secretly wanted to wring Tyrion Lannister’s neck. Even when he still pretended to be her friend, back when she started teaching at Dragonpit University. Today had been the breaking point for her, however; his sexist veiled comments about her relationship with a former student made her lose her cool in that department meeting. She lashed out at the small man, unable to hold back her frustration, and what good did that do to her? None. Varys and Tyrion exchanged almost pleased looks and all the others looked at her like she was mad. Surely the whole student body would be gossiping about her next week, no doubt due to Varys spreading rumours. 

Daenerys miserably trudged out of the Anthropology building after that exhausting meeting, only to find out it was pissing down with rain on her. She hurriedly made her way to the bus stop, but was soaked by the time her bus arrived. She had to squeeze herself into the bus like a canned sardine, getting nasty looks from fellow passengers in the process. Some crazy Red Priest was screaming that the world would end if people didn’t turn to R’hllor at the back of the bus. Honestly, if the world ended right here on that bus she wouldn’t complain all that much. 

She finally managed to hop off the bus on her street, but as she was making her way to her house, Daenerys slipped and fell painfully, narrowly avoiding smashing her nose on the pavement. 

“FUCKING HELLS!” she howled to the empty street. 

She scrambled to her feet angrily and limped to her house, a dull ache on her right side reminding her of the awful day she’d had. She tossed her shoes and her keys aside as soon as she entered the house, eager to have a shower and bury herself under the covers. Drogon had other ideas, though. Just as soon as her tired eyes left her wet and muddy shoes, Daenerys spotted what she suspected had once been a brown bird on her recently dry cleaned white rug. Drogon sat smugly next to the mangled corpse, licking his paws in a satisfied way. 

“Skoros se qogralbar, Drōgon!” she yelled at her cat in Valyrian. She had a tendency to return to her mother tongue when she was extremely angry and her cats knew that. 

Drogon scurried away from her and she was left to remove the bloodied bird from her otherwise squeaky-clean living room. She called for Jorah but he didn’t answer her. Weird, he was supposed to be home looking after Helaena. She would worry about him as soon as she got out of her wet clothes and into the shower. Usually, scalding showers were all Daenerys needed after a stressful day, but she was so mad that the hot water barely soothed her aching side. She left her bathroom wrapped in her towel and shuffled to her and Jorah’s room when she heard noises inside. Jorah was playing guitar? He hadn’t played in a while, so Daenerys entered their bedroom curiously. 

Her "husband-but-not-quite" had scattered a number of Beatles records on the floor. Jorah had his back to her, his guitar propped on his lap as he strummed the strings, his velvety voice echoing inside the warm room. Little Helaena was hopping up and down in front of him, hugging her infamous black dragon plushie and a blue one Daenerys didn’t recognise, until the penny dropped and she realised it was a Blue Meanie. 

“We all live in a…” Jorah sang softly and paused, waiting for his daughter to finish the lyrics. 

“Yellow submarine! Yellow submarine! Yellow submarine!” the young girl completed excitedly before noticing her mother standing at the door, “Mummy! Look at my Meanie!” 

Her daughter’s smile achieved what the hot water had not. Daenerys felt all her anger and frustration wash away from her and she crouched down to hug her little dragon tightly. Helaena’s hair smelled of lavender and was braided neatly, no doubt her father’s careful work. Daenerys felt her smile take over her for the first time in that day, the dimples showing in her round face and crinkling the corner of her violet eyes. Jorah turned to her with pride written all over his handsome features, looking at their prized daughter and "wife-but-not-quite" in awe. 

“Grandpa Jeor sent you the Meanie today, didn’t he, Laena?” the young girl nodded enthusiastically. He then met Daenerys’ eyes, “so I decided to show her where the Meanies came from.” 

“That explains all the records!” 

“Aye, she loved them. Alright, you two, come here,” he told them, removing the guitar from his lap and patting his knee. 

“Let me put something on, Jorah.” 

“Oh, I don’t mind,” he said much more warmly than before, in a tone his daughter was still too young to understand. Daenerys blushed a little but rose to put her cosiest pyjamas on anyway. She then lowered herself to the floor next to Jorah, who had the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album in his hands. 

“Laena, who’s this?” he said, pointing at a man in blue. 

“Paul!” 

“And this?” 

“John!” 

“This?” 

“Ring!” 

“Ringo, darling,” Jorah corrected her, his finger still pointing to the drummer dressed in pink. 

“Ringo!” 

“Alright, who’s this last one?” 

“George Harrison!” 

“Very good, Laena!” Jorah and Daenerys laughed heartily with their girl, “and who’s your favourite?” 

“George, daddy!” 

“Why?” 

“Because he has the prettiest song!” 

“What song, darling?” Daenerys asked her girl, stroking her beautiful face. 

“Sing it, daddy!” Helaena’s excited pleas made Jorah chuckle as he got his guitar from the bed. 

His deft fingers played the strings with precision and soon he started to sing in that dreamy voice of his, his eyes locked on Daenerys’. _Something_ filled her ears and her eyes and whatever traces of anger she still had in herself disappeared. She sang with him without even knowing, the lyrics came to her as easily as her smile did when she looked at her family sitting there in their house. Helaena clapped as the last notes from Jorah’s guitar hung in the air, beaming at her parents. 

“I know,” Daenerys said simply after a moment of content silence. 

“Know what, darling?” 

“It will grow. Every single day. It will grow.”

**Author's Note:**

> Skoros se qogralbar, Drōgon! = 'what the fuck, Drogon!'


End file.
